


for the keeping

by salazarsslytherin



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, it doesn't work, season 7, tyrion tries to convince bronn to come north with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 09:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarsslytherin/pseuds/salazarsslytherin
Summary: Bronn only shrugged again.  “Sorry.”  He didn’t sound very sorry.  “I like you and all but I ain’t leaving what I’ve got here.”“Whatcould Jaime possibly have—” Tyrion burst out before he cut himself off.  Jaime.





	for the keeping

If Bronn was surprised to see Tyrion sit down before him at the little corner table he had commandeered for himself, it didn’t show on his face.  

It had been surprisingly easy to find him in the capital.  He still haunted the same dingy corners he had before, drank at the same bars, supped at the same hovels.  Tyrion had learned, though, that he _didn’t_ fuck at the same brothels any more and he was no longer renting the rooms he used to.  Apparently he was paying for quarters somewhere just off the Street of the Sisters but he didn’t actually stay there all that often, which was unlike him.  Bronn wasn’t a man to waste gold like that but Tyrion didn’t have the time or the contacts in the city any more to find out why.  Besides, he was here for a reason and unfortunately simply gathering information on his old friend wasn’t it.  

“You just put my head on a fuckin’ spike you little bastard,” was how Bronn greeted Tyrion after not seeing him in several years.  

“Only if we’re caught,” Tyrion returned.  

Bronn grinned a little.  “Thought you’d be alive somewhere.  What d’you want, then?  I take it you haven’t showed back up here after all this time just to catch up.”

Tyrion wanted to respond with his usual dry humour, found that he really, _really_ wanted to actually spend an evening just drinking with Bronn and catching up on pointless things.  He wanted to hear all the news and the gossip and he wanted to tell his own stories, but he wasn’t there for that, not now.  There’d be time for chat after the war was won and the army of the dead had been defeated. 

First thing was first, though.  “Was that you who pulled Jaime from his horse?” Tyrion asked.  He knew Jaime was alive, it had been the first news he’d sought out after witnessing that hellish battle, but he wanted to be sure.

Bronn’s eyebrows jumped at the question.  “ _You_ were there?” 

“Is he alright?” Tyrion pressed.

“Aye, he’s fine, the dumb cunt.”

Tyrion let out a tiny sigh of relief.  “You got him off his horse in time?”

Bronn nodded.  “Aye, and dragged his sorry arse out the fuckin’ river.  That armour’s heavy, y’know.”

Tyrion didn’t know, but he didn’t particularly care how heavy it was so long as it wasn’t at the bottom of the Blackwater Rush with Jaime still in it.  “Where is he now?”

Bronn opened his mouth to reply, then stopped short.  “Why?” he asked instead, eyes going narrow and suspicious.  

“I need to speak with him.  Urgently.”  Tyrion paused and levelled Bronn with a steady look.  “Don’t you trust me, Bronn?” he asked quietly.  

“You killed your own father,” Bronn shrugged.  “Don’t get me wrong, he was a cunt and I don’t blame ya.  But you killed him.”

“I’d never hurt Jaime.”  

“But you’d put him in danger just so you can talk to him,” Bronn pointed out.  

Tyrion pursed his lips.  “ _Necessary_ danger.  I’ll give you a _lot_ of gold if you can arrange a meeting for me.  Somewhere Cersei won’t hear.”

“She’ll hear no matter where you are,” Bronn said.  

Tyrion gave a humourless laugh.  “I see you’re finally learning how court works.”

“I’m getting there.”

Typical that Bronn chose _now_ to decide to be cautious.  “She’d never know it was you,” Tyrion promised.  “I want you to come back with me, there’s room in our boat for one more.”  A space Tyrion had hoped Bronn would fill since he’d first thought about sailing over here.  “You’d have your pick of castles in the north—there are plenty.  You know Daenerys is going to win this war.  You’re not stupid.”  Tyrion offered a grin.  “It’d be just like old times,” he coaxed.  “People trying to take my head off and you killing them for it.  I’ve missed your company, Varys doesn’t drink half so well as you.”

Bronn shrugged one shoulder and lifted his flagon to take a deep drink.  “Too cold up north,” he said when he lowered it.  “I don’t fancy freezing my balls off for the rest of me days.”

Tyrion scoffed.  “You’re not truly going to let a little snow keep you from a castle?”  

“What can I say?” Bronn replied.  “I like it here.”

“In this stinking shit pile of a city?” Tyrion asked.  His eyes narrowed; he didn’t believe that for a second.  “What have they promised you?”  Something big.  The Rock, maybe, or Highgarden, though Tyrion couldn’t see Cersei offering either of those to one lowly sellsword who bought her precisely nothing.

“Oh, plenty,” Bronn said.  “A castle, a lovely wife, summat about a lordship.”

Tyrion raised an eyebrow.  “Should I be addressing you as Lord Bronn, now?”

Bronn snorted.  “The day one of you fuckin’ Lannisters _actually_ pays his debt to me’ll be the day all seven hells freeze over.”

 _His_.  Not Cersei, then.  “ _I_ paid you for your services.  Is it Jaime paying you now?  Or, not paying you, as it were.  And you don’t want a northern castle because...why, exactly?” Tyrion asked casually.  They both knew that the Lannisters didn’t have anything left to give.  No castles, no limitless gold.  They barely even had their reputation left to cash in on.

“It’s like I said.  Too cold.  Got a nice thing goin’ down here, warm and steady and the like.”

Tyrion looked intently at Bronn, who looked innocently back.  “Did they make a match for you?  Are you married, is that it?”

Bronn let out a bark of a laugh.  “Tried—your bloody brother went and ruined that one for me, dragged me off to Dorne instead.  Said a life of leisure didn’t suit me.”  But he was amused, not irritated.  Almost _fond_ , actually, though it took Tyrion a second to recognise the unfamiliar note in the rough voice.

“It doesn’t,” Tyrion agreed.  “But it’s a life of leisure you want.  Your own keep, a beautiful wife, plenty of sons and more gold than you could ever spend in your life.”

Bronn only shrugged again.  “I guess my priorities changed.  Sorry.”  He didn’t sound very sorry.  “I like you and all but I ain’t leaving what I’ve got here.”

“ _What_ could Jaime possibly have—” Tyrion burst out before he cut himself off.  _Jaime_.  Could that be it, he wondered?  Bronn _had_ been curiously defensive of him, and still hadn’t told Tyrion where he could find him.  Had thrown himself in front of dragonfire for him, and risked drowning to save his life again dragging him from the river.  And all for what?  Another shitty room in King’s Landing?  A castle he knew he’d never get?

Bronn’s expression hadn’t changed but his eyes were intent on Tyrion.

“No…” Tyrion said slowly, frowning in wonder.  “ _Jaime_?”

“What?” Bronn asked.  

But he knew exactly what Tyrion meant, Tyrion could tell from the smug little grin that had started pulling at the corner of his mouth.  

“ _Jaime_ ,” Tyrion repeated, with dawning horror.  Jaime and _Bronn_?  Surely not.  Jaime had...had _taste_ , he had class.  Things Bronn most certainly did not.  But then maybe that was part of the appeal.  Not that Jaime had ever apparently had any qualms about taking a socially... _unexpected_ lover.  “ _My_ Jaime?” Tyrion said, just to be sure.

“Pretty sure he ain’t _your_ Jaime,” Bronn said.  He didn’t bother denying it.

“He isn’t _yours_ ,” Tyrion retorted.

Bronn’s grin widened.  “Quite a few marks on his neck might say otherwise.  Why’d you think he always wears that little red scarf?”  

Tyrion looked scandalised.  He felt like he needed to reevaluate everything, all of a sudden.  “But...you always bought woman whores.” 

“Cheaper,” Bronn said.  “Less questions.  I like women just fine, it’s no trouble.”

“Well.”  Tyrion couldn’t think of anything else to say for a moment, truly taken by surprise.  And he was _rarely_ taken by surprise.  But Bronn _did_ used to call Jaime pretty an awful lot, back when they were sparring and he’d share a drink with Tyrion after.  ‘ _That pretty brother of yours’_ this, and ‘ _Pretty little fool_ ’ that.  Maybe it hadn’t been so mocking as Tyrion had assumed.  “You just don’t look like a pillowbiter,” he said after a moment.

Bronn snorted.  “‘S’not me biting the pillows.”

“Ah!  Gods, don’t say any more!” Tyrion said quickly, waving his hands.  That was an image he _hadn’t_ needed, at all.

Bronn looked at him appraisingly.  “You’re not surprised about Jaime,” he surmised.  

Tyrion took a long, deep drink from his goblet before he shrugged one shoulder.  “I always knew about Jaime, or at least suspected.  Have you ever heard him talk about Brynden Tully?  Or Gerald Hightower?  Even Ned Stark—you should have seen him when he was at Winterfell.  And I’m positive he had one of the other Kingsguard as a lover, before.”

Bronn nodded.  “Dayne.”

Tyrion nodded too.  That was what he’d thought.  “Well,” he said.  “I suppose there’s nothing I can really offer that’ll top that.”

“Nah,” Bronn replied.  “Worth a try, though.  Woulda worked, a few years back.”

“Things were much simpler then,” Tyrion agreed.  Back then Tyrion’s main concern had been that Joffrey would belittle him in public and stop him from gaining any respect in King’s Landing.  Now they had an army of dead men marching on the capital and precious few resources to stop them.  “He could come too, you know,” he said after a moment’s thoughtful quiet.

Bronn laughed.  “He won’t leave the queen.  They’re not...y’know.  Not any more.  But he still won’t leave.  Especially not for _her_.  Did you see what her dragon did to our army?  What it nearly did to _him_?”

Tyrion closed his eyes for a second.  “I did.”  And he’d seen what Drogon had done after, to the Tarlys, but he thought it better not to mention that.  “She’s young.  She likes to be dramatic.”

“She _likes_ fire,” Bronn corrected bluntly.  “Just like her dad.”

“She’s not like him,” Tyrion defended.

“You’ll have a hard time convincing Jaime of that, after what she did.”

Tyrion couldn’t argue.  He’d had a hard time convincing _himself_ of that, after that day, let alone Jaime.  “Will you at least get him to speak with me?” he asked, meeting Bronn’s eyes across the table.  “It’s very important, every life in Westeros depends on it.  I _need_ Jaime’s help.”

“I don’t know if you do,” Bronn said.  “He told me next time he sees you he’s gonna cut you in two.”

Tyrion glanced away.  He couldn’t say he was surprised but it still hurt to hear.  “Well,” he said, having to clear his throat quickly where it had gone tight.  “Maybe he should get the chance.”

Bronn heaved a sigh and drained the rest of his goblet.  “Meet me at sundown tomorrow, in the crypts where the dragon skulls are.  I’ll bring Jaime.  But if anyone finds out,” he said, pointing at Tyrion, “I’m not risking my neck or his to lie for you.”

Tyrion nodded.  “I understand.  Thank you, Bronn.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Bronn said, standing.  “Might be he actually will slice you in half.”  He gave Tyrion an assessing look before he nodded.  “Don’t get yourself killed, alright?”  And with that he ducked out through the crowd to head back into the city.  Probably to the Red Keep to find Jaime.

And wasn’t _that_ a strange thought?  Tyrion never would have considered it, it had never even crossed his mind when he’d introduced the two of them, but he could see how it worked, somehow.  And anyone was preferable to Cersei; at least Bronn actually cared about Jaime’s safety and wellbeing, enough to try and protect him even from _Tyrion_.  

Besides, Tyrion might have thought that nobody would ever be good enough for his big brother, but a man who was willing to jump in front of dragonfire for him was a damn good option.

And now he needed to go and get very, very drunk and try _not_ to think about his friend fucking his big brother.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love these two and there's nowhere near enough content for them so if anyone wants to talk headcanons, share ideas or just chat, feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://salazarsslytherin.tumblr.com)! :)


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